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Chapter 8: Escape

Pain ran through his body as Philza came to consciousness. 

His body was wracked head to toe in aches, his head throbbed like no other, and he was sure that on the cold floor right next to him was his own blood.

What the hell happened?

Philza tried to remember. He screwed his eyes shut, ignoring all the echoing sounds he heard that amplified tenfold in his head.

There was a village.

Yes. Yes. A desert village.

They had asked me to clear out some mobs in a cave that had been terrorizing the village.

Philza thought long and hard. After killing so many monsters, each expedition kind of blurs into each other.

But there was a buttload of mobs.

And when I jumped into the pit...

Philza remembered fighting hard, sword swinging wildly in only a way that an experienced expert could accomplish. He was a survivalist, and he had to put his good talents to use for the greater good, even if it was just slowing him down on his end-game goal.

I had fought good, only getting a couple scratches.

But then...

The pit floor had given way, dropping Philza, not giving his wings enough time to catch any lift to stop his ankles from slamming and snapping on the obsidian floor that was placed underneath the pit.

Then the kicker.

The sound of TNT lighting.

Philza groaned, opening his eyes and trying to take in his surroundings.

It was a miracle he was alive.

Thank Gods he was alive.

His eyesight was blurry, everything he saw overlapped and mixed together. But he could make out that he was in a dark, damp place.

Great.

Somebody tried to kill him.

His mind was so foggy, but he had acquired a large pain tolerance over the years so he could think clearly in times like these. The fact that his body hurt this bad, meant some things were seriously messed up. And he needed to know how bad.

How much could he move?

Philza first tested out his fingertips, choosing to go small then work big. His left hand was numb, and it was stiff, but he didn't think any of his fingers were broken. Next was his hands. He moved them just a little, before he realized why he was lying in such an awkward position.

It wasn't because any of his bones were broken that way.

It was because it was the way he was tied up.

He had handcuffs on his wrists behind his back, and rope on his legs, but what was really making it so uncomfortable was the excessive wrapping of all sorts of ropes around his wings. It was a bit of overkill. But then again, how many times do you have to tie up a person with wings? Want to make sure you get it right.

Philza took some deep breaths, happy to not hear any rattling in his chest. After surviving many predicaments, he had gotten better at assessing his own injuries. This is the list he had so far.

Bruising, everywhere.

Slight cuts from the fight.

Slight burn marks on legs and arms.